


The Trog and the Microlight

by Annariel



Series: Inexplicable Wingfic [1]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Clones, M/M, No Explanations, Not an AU but can be read as such, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 07:50:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I still have no idea why scantily clad clones of the anomaly team are wondering around the far future.  Or, for that matter, why there are flying cities and the dinosaurs have come back.  I'm working on it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Trog and the Microlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fififolle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/gifts).



> Thanks to fredbasset for beta-reading

"Is that a microlight on the ground there?" Lukas Hart's question startled Telperion Ryan and he hovvered a moment, gliding on the updraft and following the direction of Hart's arm.

His lover was right. A small microlight was just visible at the edge of a grove of trees. Ryan circled around, intent on seeing if its owner was anywhere. The grove of trees was on the edge of a large plain and a herd of arcosaurs grazed peaceably nearby. The plain was dominated by tall grasses, but the microlight had parked on a small patch of barer ground where the trees competed with the grassland for sunlight and nutrients.

"Do you reckon it's trouble?" Hart asked.

Ryan wasn't sure. It was unusual to see a troglodyte above ground, but on the other hand it was difficult to see how much harm one could do on the ground. They were miles away from any of the eyries. Ryan circled again and then a whisper of movement in the long grass of the plain caught his eye.

"Predator," he muttered and pointed.

At that moment a small figure darted out of the trees, carrying what looked like armfuls of fallen wood, and scrambled onto the microlight. The predator instantly changed direction no doubt attracted by the movement and the noise. Ryan heard the low screeching call of a Plains Raptor and wasn't surprised to see the tell tale trails of several other creatures in the grass as the pack began to form, focusing on the troglodyte and his microlight.

The flying vehicle sputtered and sent up a plume of smoke. Presumably the trog was attempting to start it. The predators drew nearer.

"Do you think we should help the trog?" Hart asked idly.

"They're not exactly friendly," Ryan pointed out. 

He wasn't particularly interested in attacking the microlight. However the only times he ever encountered the troglodytes was when they made an attack on one of the flying cities and the flying peoples were called upon to defend them. He didn't see much reason to help a troglodyte out.

The microlight sputtered again and then began to move over the ground. At that moment the raptor pack emerged out of the long grass. The microlight veered sharply so it was now pointing between two of the raptors, but it carried on moving forwards attempting to build up speed. Ryan found he was holding his breath as the machine careened forwards and the raptors drew closer. At the last moment the microlight lifted off the ground. A raptor leapt at it, teeth closing around one of the wings. The microlight lurched, but continued to gain height. Ryan could see the occupant was striking out at the raptor with what looked like a hammer in one hand, all the time continuing to wrestle with the controls.

"He's pretty good," Hart commented as the machine continued to shakily gain height.

The raptor fell away and the microlight gained a little speed. Then the frame holding the right began to fall apart and the wing itself collapsed. Ryan could see the pilot struggling with the controls as the machine went into a spiralling dive. 

"Sod it. That trog's pretty plucky," he muttered and swooped into a dive himself.

He heard Hart laugh as he joined him in the dive. They closed in rapidly on the stricken machine. Ryan stayed well clear of the engine and propeller but glided down over the top catching hold of what remained of the frame above the pilot.

"Oi!" A grubby face looked up at him, surrounded by spikey black hair. The man's eyes were obscured by goggles.

"You need some help," Ryan said.

"Not from you I don't. I have this all under control."

"Really?" Hart asked from where he'd found a grip on the remaining wing. 

"Would you like us to let go?" Ryan asked.

The troglodyte visibly debated. "Well, I suppose it'll be OK for a while. You know, just until I get the controls sorted."

Ryan nodded and wondered what they hell they had just got themselves into.

"I'm Duncan, by the way, Duncan Temple," said the troglodyte.


End file.
